Portents of Fate
by Scouse
Summary: [The sequel to the Job] Jack and Riddick meet someone in New Mecca who tells Riddick that he is living to fulfill a prophecy...but Jack must stop that prophecy from coming true if her heart is to remain unbroken...
1. Prologue: Losing My Religion

I'm back! And a new fic has begun…I know I really shouldn't start a new one when I have an entire five minute animation to draw out and colour before the end of may but I couldn't help myself. This idea came up and kicked me in the shin one day when I was sat waiting for the train in the pouring rain (bloody British weather!). It is the sequel to "The Job" though it is very different. I did really like Chronicles (oh yeah, except for the fact that Kyra went and bloody died! Gah!) and have decided to incorporate a few…_details_ from CoR into this fic. Like the Necromongers…but I have changed them quite a bit and Crematoria is in some of the later chapters, but I'll tell you more about that when I get to it. Might even have a few _familiar _faces…along with a number of new ones.

Okay, this is just the prologue and takes place five years after Jack is kidnapped, when Riddick goes to Butcher's Bay to get her and just before she starts her little killing spree. If you haven't read "The Job" then I suggest you do, or a least skim over the epilogue just to jog your memory coz it might get a little confusing with the different times that things are happening.

Right, without any more of my waffling I'll get to the important part.

I don't own anything save my own characters and a few of the planets that I have created. Basically if you recognise him/her/or it then I don't own it but have simply commandeered it for the purposes of my own twisted little imagination.

Well, tell me what you think. Be brutal if you must, otherwise I won't know where I'm going wrong or how to get better.

Happy Reading!

Gem

Xxx

Oh yeah, glad to be back!

Portents of Fate.

Prologue: Loosing My Religion.

The Helion System.

Planet Helion Prime.

City of New Mecca.

The hot night air was balmy, like a warm breath against his weary cheek as he stood on the balcony staring out at the New Meccan sky, studded with diamond stars. Cradled within his heavily robed arms to his chest, the almost sleeping baby squirmed and fussed in an attempt to stop the advances of slumber that were slowly stealing her away from the conscious world.

She was coming up for a year old. His third child by his wife, Sahar, and his second daughter. His first, Hanoona, would be turning six that summer and his only son, Taaj, was nearing three and a half.

The little one in his arms, however, he had named not according to his Muslim culture and beliefs, but for the girl that he had sworn to protect. The teenager just beginning to come into herself, realising who she was, who he had failed. The child that _he_ had forsaken to save the lives of his wife and their first daughter, Hanoona.

Audrey Jaquelin Badden. Jack. Jack B. Badd.

Allah only knew what horrors that she had faced at the hands of the mercenaries who had seen fit to abduct her, to use her to find the most wanted man in the many known universes and for their own pleasures no doubt. Horrors that had driven her to commit such acts of murder and carnage that had seen her locked away into the depths of the most notorious prison in the Multiverse, Butcher's Bay, for the entirety of her remaining life.

Imam sighed and rocked his daughter gently in his arms again, soothing her with soft words of prayer for the good Lord to protect her while she slept, blissfully unaware of the happenings around her, of the worries that her father shouldered. Slowly her eyes flutter closed and her breathing became even as inky black eyelashes brushed against her rounded baby cheeks and Imam made his way back into the nursery where his other two children slept peacefully.

Gently he lay her down into her crib, smoothing the cool, crisp white linen sheets over her and moving from the room, taking a final glance at his family. Had Jack not sacrificed herself, given herself to the mercenaries, demanded that they take her instead of Sahar and baby Hanoona, he would not have had such a family. The lives of his wife and first daughter would have been sundered, forced into a life of slavery much as Jack must have been, and the lives of his son and second daughter would not have even been sparked into existence.

Though such thoughts gave little comfort to the holy man, they did give Jack's noble sacrifice a sense of greater meaning. How Imam wished that she could have seen the little lives that she had ensured would be created with her selflessness. How he prayed night after night to his God, furious that such a beautiful, effervescent life had to be exchanged for those of him and his family.

Jack's abduction had been the second time in Imam's long life that he had ever questioned his faith, for how could He, the Lord of All, sunder a girl so full of brilliance, leave her to such a fate that befell her and landed her in the world of convicts?

Imam never found an answer to his prayers and questions, instead turning his devotion to tracking down the one man that could save Jack from her fate.

Richard B. Riddick.

Though he had immense help from a prominent New Meccan priestess, Annathea, who believed Riddick to be linked to an ancient prophecy and sought him for her own means, Imam had never found him...never heard a whisper of his whereabouts. And so, while Annathea returned to her studies and continued her search, Imam returned to his devout prayers, hoping beyond all hope that Allah may be merciful, may hear is desperate plea and send Riddick to Jack. Speed the mysterious man back to the place that had made him, the place that would either make or break Jack...

Imam sighed at his memories and moved from the nursery, closing the door quietly behind him as he exited and making his way down the stairs to the living area. Sahar smiled at him from where she stood in the kitchen drying that evenings dinner dishes and stacking them back into the cupboards, the noise from the news broadcasting upon the house's computer system keeping her company while she completed her chores.

"Audrey is sleeping." Imam murmured quietly, stepping into the kitchen beside his young wife who gave a sympathetic smile. She knew exactly where his thoughts dwelt, for so often hers lingered upon the same subject.

She grasped the dish that she was currently drying in one hand firmly and moved towards him, brushing her free hand gently over his bearded cheek.

"I worry for her too." she smiled sadly, and Imam merely nodded. "There was nothing that you could have done to save her, Imam. She saved our lives that day. All of us." she paused and returned to the sink, placing her dried plate into the cupboard above and taking another to dry. "Allah has a great purpose for Jack. He must do, for he does not make his decisions lightly."

Imam sighed wearily, rubbing a hand across his forehead and turning his attention to the com-screen in an attempt to distract his troubled mind. Instead what he saw made the blood rush from his face, made his legs buckle beneath him and sent him crashing to his knees upon the terracotta tiled floors. The dish in Sahar's grasp slipped from her hands, shattering into a thousand shards, her entire body trembling in terror as she also saw what was emblazoned across the news. Tears shimmered in her eyes as a great sob escaped her lips and she too fell to her knees beside her husband.

"…died at the hands of notorious serial killer Richard B. Riddick in the third degree security cell blocks of the five star prison Butcher's Bay. Security was unable to prevent the fight that broke out between them and the two wounded a total of six good men in the process of their private vendetta. Audrey Jaquelin Badden, or as she was better known, Jack B. Badd, wounded Richard B. Riddick before she was officially declared dead at precisely 06:00hours yesterday morning despite the best attempts of prison doctors to save her. Richard B. Riddick passed away a mere two hours later, the cause of death the wounds given to him by Miss Badden…"

Sahar glanced up from the com-screen through tear filled eyes at Imam. His face staunch and his head moving in a disbelieving shake.

"She cannot…No, she cannot be…" Imam choked out from his constricting throat, his shaking hands grasping out for Sahar's, locking onto hers in a desperate, desolate, white-knuckled grasp. "Mr. Riddick would not…"

Sahar wiped her cheeks in a futile attempt to stop her tears, though more fell, soaking her face again. "She is dead." she mumbled, her voice breaking uncontrollably. "And so is he."

-00000-

Well? What do you reckon? This is just the prologue and if you're a bit confused you should perhaps read through the prequel to this, The Job. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 1: Three Years Later

Chapter 1, yay! The return of Riddick and Jack…come on! You didn't think that I'd actually killed them off, did you? No, of course you didn't! You read the prequel! Here is the next part. Lots of questions asked in this one but not many answers yet. Have to get writing soon…

Thanks to **bima** and **Riddick's Sita** for your reviews and for following the Job through to completion. Hopefully I can finish this one too, but I'm getting ahead of myself!

Hope you like!

Happy Reading!

Gem

xxx

Chapter 1: Three years later.

_'Riddick?'_

_'Are you there?' _

_She glanced about her attempting to take in her surroundings, but they were obscured, unreadable, an insubstantial darkness that her shined eyes could not penetrate. _

_'Riddick?' She repeated again, glancing about fearfully. 'Can you hear me?'_

_Silence…_

_Nothing…_

_Then the voice came, seeping into her mind and heart like an icy mist. Gripping her body with thin, skeletal fingers that clenched about her so tightly that she couldn't breath. Couldn't escape. Trapped! _

_'He is gone.' the voice announced cheerfully, though she felt none of that happiness, only a deep dread in her gut. _

_'Where?' she demanded, forcing her fear down. 'Where has he gone?'_

_The voice laughed. A tinkling that reminded her of trickling water into a stream. 'Away…' came the enigmatic, sing-song reply and she fought desperately at the panic that attempted to claw it's way up, to escape from where she held it at bay . _

_'Why?' she growled, feeling herself frown as she spun trying desperately and in vain to see into the impregnable darkness. To see the voice's owner. The panic tore again at her heart, ripping at it viciously. _

_She knew what was coming next. She'd had this encounter so many times that she could speak the words that had etched a deep fear into her very soul…she knew they were coming…and the voice knew that she knew. _

_The voice laughed again, but at her this time and she heard the malice and hate that was harboured for her behind that simple sound. _

_Then the words came. The words that she shrank away from every time. That she tried frantically not to hear, whether that was clamping her hands to her ears or shouting at the top of her lungs. _

_She always heard them though…without exception. _

_'He has gone for her…'_

-00000-

Jack jolted awake, sitting bolt upright in the small bed. Her instincts that had been ingrained into her from her sentence in Butcher's Bay, causing her slender, scarred hand to flash out, lightening quick in a reflex action to snatch up the shiv that she kept on her bedside table…just in case. Her breathing came out in great laboured rasps as she attempted to still her racing pulse, her mercury, darkness invading eyes darting about the cabin, searching for anything, any sign of danger. Panic ripped through her slight frame, her shoulders trembling with exertion, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and the shiv that she had snatched up quivered in her white-knuckled grasp.

Slowly, as the seconds trickled by into minutes, her heart rate began to return to normal and she replaced her shiv onto the nightstand, having convinced her raging instincts that there was no threat directly at hand. Finally she glanced over her shoulder, almost warily, at the man cramped into the undersized bed beside her, hoping beyond all futile hope that she hadn't disturbed him…again. She knew he'd be awake though, and she nearly winced when she looked down and was met by a single silvery orb, that matched her own, studying her intently.

"You okay?" his voice rumbled through the suddenly thick air and Jack nodded in an attempt to brush away her increasingly frequent awakenings. He didn't believe her. He never did and his other eye opened, fixing her with an invading, sceptical glare.

"It was just another dream." she muttered, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Her voice wavered in her throat and she frowned, more angry with herself for showing such weakness than with him for his overpowering concern. She drew the blanket tighter about her suddenly chilled shoulders and turned herself away from his worried expression as she lay back down forcefully, signalling an end to their conversation. She'd had enough similar disturbances to her slumber, however, to know that this was not the end. No, far from it. Riddick wasn't one to let things lie, especially when it came to _her_ and this time was going to be no exception.

His large, firm hand gripped her shoulder tightly, giving her a light jolt, but Jack simply slapped it away evoking an angry growl from deep within his throat.

"Jack…" he demanded, warningly, his hand returning to her shoulder in a second attempt at getting her attention. His large, callused fingertips dug into her slightly causing a dull ache to start deep in her arm muscles and Jack fended his hand off again.

"You wanna lose that hand, Bucko? 'Cause I'm about to get shiv-happy on it!" she snarled but instead of withdrawing, the hand slithered in a swift motion down her body, smoothing across her stomach and following the contours of her figure and legs until it reached her knee, clutching it. "I fucking mean it, Riddick!" Jack spoke again, knowing what he was about to do, a dangerous tone lacing it's way through her words, meant as a deterrent but he ignored her, using her knee as a lever and turning her over in a lightening fast motion that left her feeling dizzy.

Silver eyes bored into silver eyes. Riddick searching deep within Jack's to find an answer and Jack trying her hardest to keep those answers under lock and key. She never could though. Since he came for her in Butcher's Bay, since he stayed with her while she sought out and repaid those men who had used her like she was nothing of worth, Riddick had been the only man that she had allowed past her defences. Not even intentionally. He was just in there one day. Like they were suddenly transmitting on the same frequency. Like they were linked together somehow. Inexplicably.

Jack sighed finally resting her head on her arm and softening her stare. He was the only one who had cared what she was feeling. Sure, following their escape from Butcher's Bay three years ago, he had just been after the sex. That was all that she could offer him. That was all that she'd had left after the traumatic life she had lived over the space of five years. She'd been just as bad, though. She had needed him physically before she could need him mentally as well and their sexual relations kept them together. Stopped Riddick from going out to find it elsewhere and breaking the heart that Jack had been developing, the feelings that she had slowly begun to feel again. They had worked through it…_together_ and, though she would never admit it to his face nor he to hers, she loved him, and he loved her.

She rubbed at her forehead with her free hand, her star-bright gaze shifting from his momentarily. "It was just another dream, Riddick." she said more softly, settling herself into a more comfortable position, squashed into the single-man bed beside him. "You can't fight dreams. Besides, I bet they'll go away in a couple of nights time."

Riddick gave a grunt of reply, still not entirely willing to give the conversation up just yet and unconvinced by her reasoning. "The same dream?" he asked and Jack paused for a long moment, simply watching his face, the way his eyes traced over her in consternation, before giving a reluctant nod of her head.

"That ain't normal, Jack, and you know it!" he continued, his voice stern. He reached over the distance between them, opening his mouth to speak again, but a loud blaring alarm drowned out anything that he had been intent on saying.

Riddick was out of the bed in an instant, dragging on his clothes from the previous night that had been discarded at various intervals through the room. Jack, however, had further a field to hunt for hers, which lay in a trail throughout the corridors of their ship, "The Bawdy Mistress". She scowled at his retreating back as she scooped up her clothing on her way to the cockpit, waiting until she got there to pull them on. Riddick was already flipping buttons and turning switches, concentration clear on his face and making a small smile of endearment tug at Jack's lips.

"Stop smirking at me, woman, and put your damn clothes on!" he growled without looking up from the task at hand and Jack narrowed her eyes, though she thought better of making a retort, instead complying and pulling her wrinkled garments on.

"Where are we?" Jack asked, slipping into the co-pilot's seat and pulling up the navigation charts on the com-screen before her, scrolling down through the information that the ship's computer seemed content to spit out at her.

Riddick turned to glance her, her brow furrowed in complete absorption of her task much as he had been seconds before. Her long hair swept up and from her face in a ponytail that always seemed unable to catch every strand, leaving wisps and curls to fall about her face in a soft frame. Beautiful.

"Stop smirking at me, _man_, and answer the damn question!" she grinned, mimicking his earlier comment and tone and Riddick chuckled turning back to the controls.

"Welcome to Helion Prime, Jack."

-00000-

There you have it. The first chapter. Hope it's okay. I know it's a bit short but I'm getting there. What is Jack dreaming of? Who is 'the Voice'? Hee hee. Oh dear, aren't I evil? Please comment, criticise, review and anything else that you wish! Thankies!


	3. Chapter 2: Welcome To Helion Prime

Again, sorry that this is a bit short. They're getting longer, though…slowly…maybe. Okay, I'll try harder next chapter to get more out.

I really enjoyed writing this one. As you probably know if you've read my bio I am a sucker for sci-fi, especially Star Wars. Anything with a space ship in it and I'm gone. I really liked the beginning of Pitch Black, the whole crash scene. Brilliant. I looove space ships! So, I wanted to get a similar type of feel with this chap. Hopefully it worked…perhaps…

Anywho, thankies to everyone for continuing to review.

Happy Reading.

Gem

Xxx

Chapter 2: Welcome To Helion Prime.

"Jack?"

She knew that she was staring but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the spectacle before her, couldn't make her hands move and comply with the demands that Riddick was making for their descent to the desert planet that hung like a luminous golden bauble in the black velvet of space before them.

"Jack?"

Thousands upon thousands of sleek, silver, teardrop shaped ships swarmed around the planet of Helion Prime like little globes of water suspended in anti-gravity. They twinkled in the light reflected from the planet's surface, so many different sizes.

"Jack?"

On some of the larger ships she could actually see the firepower that they were packing. Not an encouraging prospect in the least. So what where they? An invasion force?

"_Jack!_" Riddick shouted impatiently, kicking out at the sole of her booted foot nearest to him with his as she rested her feet on her toes, bouncing them up and down slightly in a nervous, jerky gesture. She snapped her attention back to him, looking up into his black-goggled gaze.

"Yeah?" she replied and he thrust her goggles towards her, silently telling her to put them on. It was going to be bright when they entered the atmosphere and by the looks of the welcoming committee that they had to greet them, it was highly likely that they were going to have to do some pretty fancy assed flying to get them down onto 'terra firma'. Riddick needed her at her best and that meant shielding her eyes from the glare of burning atmosphere as they went in. As they went down.

Jack pulled her eye protection over her head, not caring that it caught her ponytail at the back of her head and she turned back to the task at hand, not even bothering to ask the questions that she was dieing to know the answers to. She knew Riddick was concentrating too hard to give her any reply beyond a grunt and she didn't want to distract him. He was the only one who could save their backsides and _she_ needed _him_ at his best so that he could do just that.

"Fuel injection, maximum. Hull and wing integrity, 93 percent. Routing all excess power to main driver." Jack reeled off, flipping switches and pressing buttons as she spoke. "We gonna make a run for the surface?" she asked after a slight pause, her attention still focused upon her controls.

"Give me the stats for the landing legs. Not used 'em in a hell of a long time." he barked, disregarding her question entirely and clicking his fingers at her as he frantically prepared the ship for her first "emergency" landing in the three years that they had owned her.

Jack complied in silence. Any other time and his clicking at her would have earned him a shit-load of grief. He'd whistled at her once, trying to gain her attention and she had gone ballistic. She wasn't a fucking dog, after all…she may be a bitch but she wasn't a dog! She'd told him to sleep in the spare cabin that night. Said she hadn't wanted him anywhere near her, she was so infuriated. Riddick, however, was never one to take kindly to orders and there had been no possible way that she could have stopped him from forcing himself down onto the bed beside her. Oh, sure, she'd screamed bloody murder. She'd punched and kicked, and bit and scratched…but then the punching had become grasping…and the biting had become kissing…and the scratching, well, _scratching_!

"Anytime this week, _Your Majesty_!" Riddick snarled in annoyance, interrupting her wandering thoughts and bringing her slamming right back into the present.

"Yeah…right…landing legs, landing legs, landing legs…" she muttered, fighting to keep her mind focused upon her task. She scrolled down through the information on her com-screen, the index finger of her free hand lightly travelling down the monitor as she scanned over it.

"Need that info, Jack!" Riddick's voice became more insistent as their ship slipped closer and closer to the fleet stationed around Helion Prime. They were starting to draw attention to themselves.

"Patience is a virtue, you know…" Jack mumbled in reply, scowling behind her black goggle-lenses that reflected the bright white lettering from the black com-screen pristinely.

Suddenly the entire ship rocked and warning lights and alarms flashed amber about the dark cockpit. Jack held her breath, both her actions and Riddick's stilled for an extended heartbeat.

"What the hell was that!" she had to shout to make herself heard over the incessant wailing of the alarms and sirens desperate to get their attention, announcing all the discrepancies that were affecting the skiff all at once.

Riddick glanced at her, motionless save for the flaring of his nostrils as he waited, hoping that it wouldn't happen again. Pleading that it wasn't what he had thought it had been…

"Riddick, what-" Jack was cut off as the skiff shuddered a second time, throwing her forwards into her com-controls, the monitor shaking dangerously where it was bolted to the co-pilot's seat and the blaring noise became louder.

"Fuckers are shooting at us!" Riddick roared over the din, fumbling underneath his own com-station through the assortment of wires while manoeuvring the ship from the line of fire that was lancing it's way towards them. His hand clasped around a clump of several cables held together by duck-tape, his hand coming away sticky as the heat from the skiff's computers had caused the adhesive to melt. He muttered under his breath, cursing Jack and her obsession with the temporary bonding agent. According to her, duck-tape was the answer to everything!

He yanked out the clustered power cables that had been linked to the alarm system and the ship was filled with silence though a ringing had taken up residence in both his and Jack's ears. She raised an amused eyebrow at him but Riddick's grim frown sobered her and sent her attention back to her own com as he began evading the attacks sent towards them, looking for a window through which they could slip into the planet's atmosphere.

"Hull and wing intensity is down to 86 percent. Bastards hit us!" she hissed, hands flirting with the controls in their own dance. Riddick would have stopped to admire the way she moved when she was working if they hadn't been up to their eyeballs in shit. "Still nothing on the landing legs…wait…" she paused, leaning in closer to the screen and squinting her eyes behind her goggles in scrutiny. "_Shit_!" she growled and she was suddenly fumbling with her harness, limbs flailing desperately as she fought to release herself.

"Talk to me, Jack!" Riddick yelled, swinging the skiff around another volley of shots that rocketed their way and causing her un-strapped body to slam into the wall. "Jack, why are you outta your seat? You're gonna get fucking hurt!"

Jack was moving again, rubbing at where her soft body had been forced painfully up against the jutting metal wall of the cockpit. She was out in the corridor before she replied to him, her legs pelting out a furious run clanging out metallically as she yelled back over her shoulder, her voice echoing in the unnerving silence.

"The landing legs are fucking _offline_!"

-00000-

Sorry, I know, I know. Cliff-hangers are bad! Who's shooting at them, I wonder…well, actually I don't, coz I know exactly who is shooting at them but…there you go. Hope you liked!


	4. Chapter 3: The Final Flight of the Bawdy...

Sorry I haven't updated for so long. I've really got to start my animation so I won't be updating very regularly but I will try to do at least one a week.

This chapter was a hard one to get out. Phew! The whole last scene though kinda flowed out. I hope it's okay. It's only the first part though. I wanted to do the Final Flight of the Bawdy Mistress in one chap but it stopped flowing and I wanted to get this part out to see what people think. Anything that you can think of to make it better (coz it really needs to be made better!) would be great!

Thank you for continuing to read and review. Hopefully I can get to the more exciting bits soon, like the whole Riddick vs. Imam scene. OOOOOhhhh, can't wait to write that one!

Well, Happy Reading!

Gem

Xxx

Chapter 3: The Final Flight of the Bawdy Mistress (part 1).

"Jack! Get back in your _fucking _seat!" Riddick's words echoed down through the corridor after her as she continued to sprint in the direction of the service ladder that would lead her to the bowels of the skiff. "_Jack_!"

"Just _you_ concentrate on flying!" she bellowed back, slamming into the far wall, unable to stop from her body's momentum and the lurching motions that the skiff was making. "We can't land if I don't sort out the legs and we'll be easy pickings!" she growled out, irritated that Riddick couldn't see that. "Dunno 'bout you, but I wasn't planning on dieing today!"

Jack actually heard Riddick's loud, angry growl of reply despite the distance that was between them as she steadied herself and swung her legs over the railings that encompassed the service ladder to prevent anyone from unintentionally falling down to the lower deck and injuring themselves. She gave a smirk at Riddick's expense and then began her precarious decent into the belly of 'The Mistress', winding one arm about a rung, holding onto it by the crook of her elbow to steady herself as she tested her footing hoping that the ladder would take her weight. It was built to hold considerably more weight than was created by her slender frame but Jack still felt the need to make certain. You couldn't ever be too careful. She'd learned that the hard way.

She moved down, step by step, slowly at first and then gaining speed as she became more confident. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. She counted the steps she took keeping in time with the thudding of her heart against her ribcage. She'd never felt so nervous since the day that Riddick had strolled in her cell.

They were in deep shit and she didn't even know who was set on killing their asses. It had been three years since they had broken out of Butcher's Bay and a good eight years since they had been free to move about in the darkness of the Multiverse's shadows without the threat of pursuit from some pansy-assed merc jerk who thought that he could do just about anything for a lousy buck.

_For a lousy few million bucks_, she reminded herself! That was why they had come for her when she had lived on Helion Prime with Imam and his family. That was why Riddick had left her in the first place, albeit he had left her with a kiss and a promise. They had still come though. The scent of money brought the wickedness out in humankind, like the smell of a fresh kill drew out the bloodlust of a starving animal. Money made men do terrible things.

This time was different, however. Not one of the mercs that had abducted her or the ones that had sought out Riddick for most of his adult life, had ever tried to kill them before. They were too valuable. Worth their weight in gold so to speak. The fact that their current attackers wanted them dead was a refreshing change for Jack, though not an entirely welcome one.

Suddenly the ship shuddered about her, metal groaning in protest at the manoeuvres that it was being put through by Riddick's piloting skills, pitching and bucking through space like a wild bronco to avoid assault. Jack was thrown backwards, her perspiration-slick hands losing their grip on her handhold and sending her sprawling onto her back, thudding to the deck below. Her spine throbbed from the jarring and she paused for a moment, fighting the sickly, winded feeling that was threatening to overwhelm her senses and send her into the fogginess of a pain induced stupor. She wanted nothing more to remain there, lying on her back on the lower deck and let her hurts melt away into the icy metal that she lay upon.

"You got them legs sorted yet?" Riddick's grim voice called to her, echoing to her ears through the corridors of the skiff and making her snap back to reality again. She groaned and pushed herself to her feet, gritting her teeth against the agony that flared up and down her back like a bolt of dull lightening. She had to get those legs down!

"Almost there!" she yelled back, forcing herself into another run down the darkened corridor until she found the room that housed the landing mechanisms.

"I want you back up in this seat in three, Jack!" Riddick's voice growled out again and she rolled her eyes in exasperation, slapping her palm against the access panel. The door hissed open revealing a room bathed in an angry flashing light that Jack's goggles did little to dispel.

"Alright, let see what we got here…" she muttered shouldering her way into the small room that was filled with wall to wall machinery, half of which Jack had no inclination of it's purpose other than the fact that it looked complicated. She knew where the landing legs were luckily, after having helped Riddick to oil them up several weeks past when they had been in the Aeries Cluster, and ducked beneath a piston, squeezing herself past claw-like pieces of the machinery that thrust themselves forwards intent on tearing the soft skin of her passing body to ribbons.

"There you are, you little _shitters_!" she hissed, holding in her breath and her stomach to slither past more hostile technology and stopping before the large, slightly rusting metal legs that were supposed to fold out from the belly of the ship and ensure them a safe landing.

Jack blew at the wisps of hair that always seemed to escape the captivity of her ponytail and end up in her face, and rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, scanning the massive parts that resembled two pairs of legs that were bent at the knees.

"Okay." she breathed, fighting against the erratic motions of the skiff and reaching out for the control panel. "Here we go."

-00000-

Riddick swung the ship around again, growling as the laser fire scorched the hull. They were getting better at aiming and predicting his manoeuvres. If he had hesitated for even a split second in his flying then he and Jack would both be stardust! He needed to do something and do it fast if he was going to get Jack's ass to safety.

_Come on, Ricky! Get you pansy-assed dick in gear!_ he growled in his own thoughts, clenching his hands tighter around the control-stick and searching more diligently for an escape route to planetside.

Some of the smaller sleek, silver skiffs had begun to peel away from their formation and head in Riddick's direction, no doubt intent on blowing him to oblivion. These fuckers, whoever they were, did not seem like they cared who he was, they just wanted to keep him away from Helion Prime.

"Interesting…" Riddick mused aloud, his protected eyes sweeping over the massive space armada again as they hung before him, toting their guns…taking aim.

Then he saw it. Their ticket for escape. The little entourage that had taken it upon themselves to go after him had left a small opening. It was tight…very tight and it meant that he would be flying uncomfortably close to some of the bigger bad-asses. But…it was there and the only way.

"Jack!" he yelled hearing his own voice ricocheting through the metal shell that was their ship. He heard her curse in response and irritation.

"What _now_!" she roared back and he gave a grim smirk, juking and jinking the control-stick suddenly, sending them hurtling towards the sliver of hope.

"Hold on to something!"

-00000-

He stood on the bridge of his command ship, his stormy grey eyes sweeping over the panoramic view of space before him, gauntlet clad hands clasped at the small of his back. The tiny dilapidated little ship that danced at the edge of the fleet that he commanded was beginning to try his patience.

"What is the problem, _Commander_?" he hissed, refusing to turn his gaze away from the view port and to the pale, grim man that he spoke to.

The man paused for an extended heartbeat, steeling himself for what he was about to relay to his superior. To his regent.

That was a bad sign. Vaako was prone to pausing when something had gone wrong. It was a weakness that made the younger man so much easier to read and that was liable to get him killed at some point. On the other hand, it also made him the most trustworthy of all his commanders. Vaako was truthful to the point of stupidity whereas some of his more questionable subjects were decidedly dubious to say the least, plotting and conspiring.

"What is it, Vaako!" he raised his voice, levelling a furious stare upon the younger man finally, though to Vaako's credit, he did not flinch or wince, simply raised his chin, meeting his regent's ardent gaze full on.

That was another quality that made Vaako indispensable. He never shirked his duty. Never shied away from toil and hard work, nor from the consequences when their plans didn't run smoothly.

"The vessel in question seems to be evading our fire, my Lord Marshal." Vaako replied finally, dipping his head in a gesture of submission to the Lord Marshal's authority.

He stayed silent for a long moment that drew Vaako's eyes upwards to his monarch's face, waiting for his response.

"I see." the Lord Marshal said finally, turning his gaze back to the view port.

Vaako hesitated briefly again, turning his gaze also to the colossal window that laid the depths of space bare to his glance.

"The vessel seems to be…heading towards the planet, my Lord Marshal."

"What of the pursuit?" he demanded suddenly startling Vaako's stare from blackness to his Lord's face beside him.

"I have sent out one fighter squadron after it…however…" he paused again, taking a deep breath in and bracing himself. "It seems that the vessel has broken the atmosphere…"

-00000-

There we go. What to you reckon? As always tips, hints, criticism and all is very, very welcome! The next chapter is part 2 of the Final Flight. Hehe. Can you tell where I pilfered the name from? Lol!


	5. Chapter 4: The Final Flight of the Bawdy...

Warning now, I really _hate_ this chapter. It didn't go at all well and I have suffered the worst case of writers block ever imaginable! It really, really sucks and I'm not joking! But I needed to move on with the story so I forced this out. I may go back and go into more detail after I've got a few other chapters out and gotten back into the swing of writing this fic but I'm not promising anything. It's really shit and I kinda want to put this chapter behind me.

So sorry again. I apologise for the crappiness and I promise that the next few chapters are lots better. At least I hope they are…

Okay, well, thanks for all your reviews, I really appreciate them. Any ideas for how to make this chapter less…sucky and I'd be very grateful!

Happy Reading!

Gem

xxx

Chapter 4: The Final Flight of the Bawdy Mistress (part2).

"Hold onto something!" he yelled at her and Jack had little time to comply before the ship lurched and she was thrown forwards, outstretched hand sent scraping mercilessly into the jagged machinery of the landing legs. A pain filled curse tore from her lips as her knuckles were ripped and slashed by the sharp, protruding bits of metal that constituted the control panel.

"Shit!" she hissed, her uninjured hand lashing out and grabbing onto the nearest thing that could be used as a handhold. "A little warning next time!" she roared back to Riddick as she shook her lacerated hand, sprinkling droplets of blood around her onto the dull, scuffed metal flooring.

Riddick either didn't hear her or was too busy to reply to her and all Jack could do was grit her teeth, baring the stinging, throbbing pain in her right hand, and cling to the bolted down machinery for dear life.

-00000-

Riddick grimaced, jinking the controls of the ship and making the heap of rusting metal twirl and twist around the oncoming fighters with an astonishing grace. Ideally he would have liked to have had Jack back in her seat and strapped down, where he could see her and where she couldn't get herself hurt, but he had little time to allow thoughts like that to fly through his mind. He needed to focus otherwise they would both be very dead, very soon.

Sleek, silver fighters streaked past the ship with little room to spare, the vacuum of space between them boiling with laser fire, blow after blow raining down like a thunderstorm and scorching the hull, though not enough to penetrate.

Riddick dipped the skiff's nose towards the planet, flipping it into a tight barrel roll away from one of the larger, slower battle cruisers, and suddenly all pursuit ceased. The many swarms of one-men fighters pulled back, circling around towards the remainder of the fleet and seemingly giving up their incessant chase.

Worry settled in Riddick's belly like a coiled snake, slowly winding it's way up through his stomach to rest in his chest making it clench. There was only one reason why they would pull away when they'd had him outnumbered and outgunned.

The concern in his body suddenly turned to dread, desperation and tiny sliver of fear as he pushed the ship to the fastest that she would go in an attempt to reach the atmosphere before the warship decided to open fire with one of it's massive laser mortars.

_Shit! _If they were hit by a blast from one of those fuckers then they'd be fried.

"Come _on_ you fucking heap of _shit_!" Riddick roared at the controls, fingers hammering at them in an attempt to coax the 'Bawdy Mistress' into a speedier descent. "Come on!"

Atmosphere burned brilliant and bright around the skiff's nose, stabbing into Riddick's eyes despite the fact that he wore protective goggles.

"Yes, yes! Come on you fucking bitch!" he gritted out through set teeth, hope beginning to win back over the anxiety.

For several long moments everything stilled. It seemed an eternity as the ship grappled, trying desperately to breach the atmosphere like a diver desperate to break the surface of the sea for air. The entire skiff shuddered as she plunged through and Riddick release a jubilant whoop only to have it strangled in his throat as the beam from the battle cruiser's cannon hit home.

-00000-

Dazzling liquid fire burst into Jack's goggle-shielded eyes causing an immense pain to flare through her skull as if it was being split in two. So great was the agony shooting through her eye sockets, that she was unable to think coherently, simply clinging to the wires and machinery for all she was worth.

She'd heard Riddick's primal yells moments before as he desperately attempted to save them from certain death. Then there had been nothing but the blinding light and pain.

_Oh, shit_. She thought absently, gritting her teeth together and simply wishing for the agony to end. _We're going to die…_

-00000-

"A direct hit, my Lord!" Vaako enthused from where he stood beside one of the many hunched men and women who poured over the control panels of the massive flagship. His grey eyes scanned over the information on first one screen then another to his left. "There is no way that such a vessel could survive it's decent to the surface." his gaze flickered back over his shoulder to his leader and he sobered slightly, seeing the older man's staunch features.

"Do not be so easily fooled, Vaako." he growled out, twisting the metal gauntlets about his wrists. "I want a search party down to recover the bodies. I want to know who they were and what they did."

Vaako snapped a sharp salute, before dipping his head in a respectful bow.

"As you wish my Lord Marshal. It shall be done."

-00000-

Jack lay on the burning sand, her excruciating back grateful for the warmth upon her raw muscles and spine, and her skin screaming out in protest as it was scalded. She didn't even remember the impact, only the torture that was inflicted upon her eye. She turned them, amazingly still goggle-clad about her, searching for any signs of Riddick. She wouldn't be able to live if he hadn't survived. She wasn't even sure how she had survived!

Her desperate gaze found him on his feet dusting himself down and scanning the area for a direct threat. She smiled with immense relief at that. Same old Riddick. He just never seemed to switch off, to lower his guard, even though the bastards who had shot them down thought that they had been destroyed in the crash.

"You gonna get up, or just lie there and crisp?" he asked not even bothering to turn and look at her as he spoke, his shaded eyes intent on discerning the direction of the nearest town.

"Riddick! We've just had a fucking crash! Almost died!" she gasped incredulously but Riddick simply shrugged, his back still to her, as she struggled to sit upright.

"Yeah, yeah…" Jack muttered, finally, when she realized that she was unlikely to get any reply or sympathy from him, wincing and cursing as she succeeded in pushing up into a sitting position. Her back throbbed harder than before and a blazing headache threatened to explode behind her left eye.

Riddick turned then, at the sounds of her straining, and moved to kneel beside her in the burning, soft red sand.

"You okay?" he queried and Jack nodded, waving his overdue concern away with her damaged hand. Riddick's own hand shot out in a lightening fast motion, fingers snatching up Jack's wrist and twisting so that he could inspect her torn knuckles.

"It's just a little cut, Riddick." Jack began, attempting to tug her wrist free, but Riddick merely raised his eyebrow and she fell silent knowing that her words weren't about to fool him. He did have eyes after all and her knuckles were slashed almost beyond recognition.

After an excruciating pause Riddick stood, pulling Jack to her feet with him, an arm curling around her waist to steady her when she wobbled slightly.

"Come on. The sooner we get into New Mecca, the sooner we can get you sorted out. I don't want those cuts to get infected. They'll sting like shit."

Jack rolled her eyes but followed after him, taking one final sombre glance at the smoking, twisted metal skeleton that had been their ship, their home. It had been where they had eaten and slept, where they had argued and laughed, where they had fought and loved. It had been their life for the past three years and now it was all over, gone in a tumult of flames and smoke. 'The Bawdy Mistress' had taken her very last flight.

-00000-

Argh! Well, at least crappy chapter is over and the story can move onwards! Tallyho!


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